Set Against the Grain
by jenepeuxpaslecroire
Summary: Follows the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Crisis Core/Final Fantasy VII/Advent Children.
1. Chapter 1 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via FFVII/CC._

--1--

"…and it was so real! This was before I even _met_ the general. You could probably imagine how terrified I was. Completely embarrassed myself, by the way."

Zack's voice flowed softly through the chilly air, blending in with the sounds of nightfall in the mountains. To his left, Cloud was propped carefully against the rocks, leaning on the SOLDIER with most of his weight. If it weren't for his open eyes, Zack would have thought the cadet was asleep. But night had just fallen and the chill had just settled over them. Sleep was always just out of reach.

"Angeal saved me."

His voice softened deeply and a note of grief edged itself between his words.

"He always saved me," Zack whispered.

His eyes were focused out across the foothills, the stars beginning to shine through the blanketing darkness. There were no cities to light the valley or offer them hope for their journey. Turning, Zack pulled Cloud into his arms, trying to provide as much warmth as he could against the cold of night.

"I won't give up. I can't."

Then with a heavy sigh, he placed his own head on top of the blond's and closed his eyes.

"I will save you, Cloud."


	2. Chapter 2 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

NOTE: This part immediately follows the flashback in chapter 26 of _A Day in the Life_, except, you know, this is Zack's perspective.

--2--

"Wait."

Zack stopped and slowly turned around from where he stood in front of the sliding glass doors on the balcony of one of the top floors of the Shinra building.

Sharply dressed but haphazardly put together, Reno stood before him, leaning precariously against the railing keeping him from losing his balance. His tie was MIA, as was his suit jacket, and the buttons of his shirt were only half done, but his appearance still said _Turk_. Zack often wondered if the redhead dressed so just to throw everyone off. Because Zack knew Reno was a damn good Turk, and his appearance said nothing of his ability.

Reno blinked slowly before flicking his gaze inside the doors, then back to the brunet SOLDIER standing before him.

"Don't let those bastards kill you out there—that's my job."

Zack didn't know how to respond.

Reno was known for his uncaring, slapdash, and altogether belligerent attitude, yet it was rare moments like these when Zack caught a glimpse of the other man's actual character. The redhead almost never was honest with anyone, let alone with himself. So when Zack was confronted with the unguarded expression Reno rarely wore, he didn't respond sarcastically like one would expect when spoken to by those choice words. Instead, he nodded, a moment of understanding dawning on him, before he turned and left the balcony, heading through the glass doors to the lounge inside where warmer temperatures greeted him.

And to Cloud.

The blond cadet was seated alone at the far table with his head propped on his folded arms. Two other cadets were talking a few tables away, both offering an informal salute to the First Class, though not addressing him directly.

When Zack reached Cloud's table, he sat down silently next to him and mimicked the younger man's position, but tilted his head slightly to watch the blond. With the even, deep breaths Cloud was taking, Zack was pretty sure he was asleep. He was tempted to wake him up, if only to lead him back to the barracks where he would probably be grateful not to wake up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back, but Zack couldn't really justify disturbing the sleeping cadet. His head was angled toward Zack, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted—blond hair obscuring much of the rest of his features, longer than Zack could remember it ever being.

He was so young. Zack could remember when he was that young—determined and excited to become a SOLDIER. No doubt Cloud would accomplish just as much.

_Nibelheim._ They would be traveling to Nibelheim tomorrow morning—Cloud's hometown. With Sephiroth. None of that actually gave Zack cause to worry, but for a reason unknown to him, he couldn't shake the feeling that this mission was inherently and eternally important. That it was bigger than any of them would ever know. And for that reason alone, he was both nervous and excited that Cloud would be joining them.

Not to mention Zack was dying to meet Cloud's family.

The brunet's thoughts were cut short when he realized Cloud was awake, had his eyes open, and was staring openly at the First Class SOLDIER. His head was still propped and the other two cadets were already gone from the room. The only sound that filled the room other than the buzz of the vending machines behind them was the sound of Reno's muffled voice through the balcony doors.

And that was how it was. Zack, known for being loud, obnoxious, and playful around the blond cadet, was quiet. Cloud, not one to talk unless it was absolutely necessary, was being just that—Cloud. Maybe it was the mission hanging over Zack's head. Maybe it was the late hour. But he couldn't bring himself to cut a snarky comment or even ruffle the boy's hair in jest. Staring at Cloud made him feel older than he was, older than he wanted to be. As if he could see infinite potential in the boy—that Cloud would become more than any of them ever thought was possible. That he was infinitely more important than they would ever know. And Zack was only a friend. Zack was merely one of the people Cloud would meet on the way to _becoming._

So, instead, he smiled softly and tilted his head at the questioning gaze in the blond's eyes.

"He can write the fucking report for all I care. I did my job. And—"

Both soldiers looked up at the redhead's entrance, the insensitive voice cutting the moment in half. Zack would have rolled his eyes if Cloud hadn't beaten him to it. And he might have told Reno to shut the hell up, but the Turk had crossed the room in record time, exiting through the hallway door, his voice echoing down the corridor as he went.

Zack turned back to his friend, but found the cadet already standing. That's when he noticed how truly exhausted the blond was. _Maybe he shouldn't be going tomorrow._ But that thought was cut short by the beaming smile Cloud threw his way.

"So, to Nibelheim? Tomorrow?"

Zack smiled. "Absolutely."


	3. Chapter 3 : Advent Children

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--3--

Sometimes, when he let the cold seep deep enough to numb him, Cloud thought of Zack. And it wasn't the good moments, either. Memories of Zack were etched so complexly into his memory, he still wasn't able to separate most of them from his own experience of events. Though, if he were completely honest with himself, he'd admit he wasn't ready to separate the memories. Doing that meant removing Zack from his life completely. The memories and experiences would be corrected, but Zack's imprint, whatever form that had taken, would no longer weigh upon him. And Cloud lived for so long under the weight of Zack's legacy, he wasn't willing to give it up. It was a comfortable weight to bear.

Zack was gone.

Nothing in Cloud's life had ever felt so real. Zack was a constant part of him, but he was still gone. The years Cloud lost while on the run with Zack caused his memories to further crack and peel under the weight of loss and trauma. And their days in Shinra felt like only moments ago in Cloud's distorted recall.

Each new morning brought with it the clarity of _knowing_—the reality of understanding. Over time, his memories pieced themselves together; and as they did, Cloud could feel the remnants of his friendship with Zack falling apart.

He was losing Zack.

Tifa didn't understand why he secluded himself from the rest of them; not one of them understood. The collapse of Shinra and the end of Sephiroth brought hope to all of them—but not to Cloud. Midgar was slowly rebuilding itself after its own destruction, and Cloud desperately wished for the same. On the outside, he was a hero. He was a savior. And he had overcome more than anyone ever thought he would. But he could not overcome himself.

Cloud could remember his encounters with Sephiroth just as clearly as his friendship with Zack. The parts of his life that occurred before Zack's death had become the more vivid memories of all his experiences. And even as Zack's words continued to echo within and through him, so did Sephiroth's.

Cloud was beginning to think Sephiroth was right. He may have saved the planet from destruction, but he was never able to save himself. The planet was recovering, and Cloud was slowly falling apart. Bits and pieces of himself were being separated and destroyed each moment he revisited his memories. Every time he heard Zack's voice in his head telling him to combat Sephiroth's mind games, he wondered if it would be the last time that voice filtered through the fog of his cluttered memory. If he alone would be strong enough to withstand the next fight.

Agonizingly, he waited for the day when his memories of Zack would be lost forever, and lived with the hope that it would never come.


	4. Chapter 4 : post Advent Children

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--4--

Sometimes, when he let himself sleep for longer than mere moments at a time, Cloud would dream. Dreams full of color and voices and sky. His eyes would burn when they finally opened, unexplainable peace settling in his limbs. But the deep ache reverberating in his spirit still remained. He would hope for the dreams to return, but would stop—unwilling to succumb to the actual hopelessness the dreams would instill. Even after weeks of mostly sleeping on and off throughout the nights while he stared sightlessly into the darkness that had edged itself into his consciousness, he still would not dream. It was only when his body caved in on itself and pulled him under that he would fall into the images and scenarios he tried vainly to ignore.

But he was not dreaming now.

Oftentimes, his dreams would consist of what-ifs and if-onlys. _What if Aerith hadn't been alone when Sephiroth found her? If only Cloud had been awake when Zack spent his last moments fighting for their lives. If only Cloud had been strong enough to destroy Sephiroth that day at the reactor, and saved all of their lives. What if he had never joined Shinra?_

The only time he ever saw Zack was in his dreams. He could never explain his dreams, and they were always different. Sometimes he relived memories, of which were either Zack's or his, he hadn't figured out yet. Sometimes it was like he almost _talked _to his best friend. Like they weren't both dead.

Because Cloud was dead. At least, that was the only way he could explain it. The darkness that had seeped into his soul when he wasn't looking. The apathy that clawed at his emotions and begged him to just end it all.

Dead. Just like his best friend.

"Reno said I'd find you here."

Rufus Shinra. Back when Cloud was a cadet, he hadn't had the pleasure of knowing the other blond man, though his ambitions weren't aimed close enough to provide an encounter. And Cloud often wondered what the young executive had been like back then, before Sephiroth's rampage. Before they all changed.

"Though why he'd be right, I'm not sure. If anything, he's the most unreliable employee I have."

Cloud didn't have to turn to know the other man was standing right next to him. From his position lying across one of the pews in the almost completely destroyed sanctuary, he could see straight through the broken ceiling and into the gray sky beyond. The polluted atmosphere above the plate. It was disgusting, just like everything else he was bound to encounter.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

_When was the last time Rufus Shinra actually cared about anyone other than himself?_

Instead of answering him, Cloud tilted his head to the side. From this angle, he could see a single stream of sunlight pouring in from across the room. The sunlight, the flowers, the wooden beams of the broken church all knocked him slightly off-kilter. With time, he had imagined it would all come back to him, or at least it would ebb away and leave him in some form of peace. But images continued to assault him no matter how deeply they were buried. Images of defeat, images of death and decay. Aerith's body sinking like the dead weight it was down to the depths in the waters below. Zack's beaten body breathing its last. His own inability to recover most of his memories from before Sephiroth's breakdown.

He often wondered if the day would ever come when he would forget his best friend. Or if he would wake up one morning and Sephiroth's rampage hadn't really happened.

But what-ifs aren't meant for the here and now. And Cloud was tired of living in the past.

"Strife."

When he didn't answer, he felt Rufus settle down beside him on the pew. They weren't friends. They weren't even acquaintances. At one time, they were enemies. Cloud didn't know what the hell they were anymore. Strangers, he'd guess. Though, he'd like to consider them still adversaries. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with the man's attempts at conversation. And if Rufus wasn't so damned _reformed, _as he'd like everyone to believe, Cloud wouldn't think twice before offing the executive. No ounce of guilt. The apathy was threatening to overwhelm him, and Cloud was hard-pressed not to ignore it.

"I've never been considered a benevolent man."

Rufus Shinra was not his father, but he unconsciously emulated him no matter how hard he tried not to live up to his father's destructive personality—greedy, sinister, and sordid. Cloud wasn't willing to play the man's games anymore.

"Why are you here," he uttered. His voice was raw from disuse but fully intentional and left no room for beating around the bush.

Instead of answering him directly, the senior Shinra executive placed an unlabeled manila envelope on the pew between them.

"As you know, the rebuilding of Midgar is nearing completion. Final repairs are being overseen and people are beginning to move back into the city," Rufus pointed out. He wasn't looking at the ex-mercenary, but his gaze was fixed upon the small garden thriving a few feet away. Several different colors of flowers flourished within the tall grass, providing an oasis from the darkness and shadows plaguing the beaten citadel.

Cloud didn't respond. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about just why Midgar needed repairing in the first place. More than anything, he wanted to be removed from the life he'd been handed. No matter how hard he fought, how many times he saved the planet, his life was still the same. He was still the same little boy—weak, alone, and broken. Over time, he outgrew his naïveté and his misguided need to serve Shinra, but he still ended up alone. Midgar was being renewed, and he was left in the dust. Savior, hero—he felt like a _tool_.

"I'm not asking you to do anything."

Rufus stood up from the bench, movement fluid and seamless, brushing himself off silently before looking up through the breach in the ceiling.

"You should really get that fixed."

With a final look in Cloud's direction, he turned and walked out of the church, his footsteps echoing long after he was gone.

When Cloud was sure the man wasn't going to return, he sat up from the bench and rubbed his face to fight back the exhaustion plaguing him. A long sigh pulled itself from his lungs before he reached over to take hold of the ominous envelope.

Nothing good ever came out of doing business with Rufus Shinra.

But as far as Cloud could remember, he was never in business with the man.

The paper package crinkled noisily in his hands as he opened the seal to reveal its contents. Tipping it carelessly, something weighted and silver fell into his left palm—a key. It had no etching at all, but the design was uncharacteristically ornate. Other than the unusual design, there was nothing especially characteristic about it, and it didn't offer any clues as to where it came from or where it was intended to be used. He wondered if it were some part of one of Rufus's twisted games. Cloud wouldn't put it past the man to send the ex-mercenary on a fruitless quest. Though Cloud never was one to play Rufus Shinra's games.

Feeling at a loss, he looked instead within the envelope again. A single white leaf of paper stared back at him innocently. Reaching within, he pulled it out and held it up next to the key.

Shinra Electric Power Company stationary signed and sealed.

Cloud would recognize the SEC emblem anywhere. It was forever etched into his memory, a piece of his past burned onto the back of his eyelids.

Reading over the short notice quickly and thoroughly, he closed his eyes thoughtfully. It was simple and very uncharacteristic of the man who had delivered it. Very uncharacteristic.

Suddenly, Rufus's words echoed in his mind: _"I've never been considered a benevolent man."_

Turning the key over and over again in the palm of his hand, Cloud studied the unfamiliar weight of it. It was larger than normal, but didn't look aged much at all. He wondered if Rufus had made a copy of it—actually, he bet the man probably did. It would be his way of staying on the offensive.

Standing hesitantly, the blond turned his gaze toward the doors at the back of the church. Though the immense building was crippled and dilapidated, the doors were still intact and they stood tall and proud almost.

Not that he always used the door. Memories of his first encounter with the structure and the young woman within brought his eyes back to the front of the church where the altar of flowers thrived voraciously in the little sunlight pouring in through the opening above. Fixing the hole was the practical solution, but so much relied on its presence that he was unsure exactly what he ought to do. The garden was the only part of Aerith he had left. The only thing that brought welcome memories of her to his mind. If it weren't for the colorful display of life struggling so desperately to grow amidst the pollution and poverty under the plate, his memories of her would be forever paused on the moment Sephiroth took it away from her. Her life. Her garden.

Resolutely, Cloud folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. With the key in his hand, he made his way out of the church, stepping outside into the muggy daylight beyond its doors. He hadn't been outside in days. The surrounding buildings were in various states of repair and the crowd was more populated than usual. It was almost as if the city had life again.

Turning, he placed the key into the lock in the church door. He'd be back soon.


	5. Chapter 5 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--5--

Helplessly dragging the almost dead weight behind him, Zack climbed the winding staircase with slow, even steps, his breath escaping in harsh gasps. Being unconscious had zapped most of his strength, though he was immensely relieved he had any at all. The darkness provided no path by which to follow, but he kept his mind focused and his steps sure so that he didn't trip himself or drop the comatose cadet he was carrying.

He didn't quite understand how they had escaped. Flashes of memories assaulted his consciousness as he attempted to gain his wits about him.

_How did we get here?_

The last thing he remembered was encountering Sephiroth post-breakdown. Someone or something flipped a switch in the general that wasn't meant to be touched. One moment he was leading them through Nibelheim and Cloud was visiting his parents, the next moment had the silver-haired man going off about "Jenova" and "mother," both of which Zack didn't know if he really wanted to understand. Not to mention Sephiroth burned down the town without preamble. It was almost as if someone else had taken his place. Something else was controlling him.

There was no other explanation Zack could give for the general's uncharacteristic behavior. It was unprompted. It was illogical. There were no signs.

Sephiroth was rational to a fault. The only other person who could compare on the same scale in terms of sagacity was Angeal—but they were far from alike. It made Zack wonder if Sephiroth had somehow succumbed to the same madness that had taken Genesis. However, when he thought about it, Sephiroth still had had a degree of level-headedness about it, no matter how impulsive and reactionary his behavior had seemed. It was as if Sephiroth had found something that had unknowingly triggered a part of him that no one knew existed. Because no matter how hard Zack wanted to argue that Sephiroth was not acting himself, he remembered the look in the general's eyes. The once perfectly controlled man was afraid of something, and Zack wanted to know exactly what that was.

If Sephiroth could react so violently so suddenly, then there must be something worth looking into. And once he and Cloud returned to Midgar, he wasn't going to stop until he found out exactly what that was.


	6. Chapter 6 : Final Fantasy VII

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

NOTE: This part connects with chapter 26 of _A Day in the Life, _except, you know, this is Cloud's perspective. Go read it first. In fact, go read that entire collection.

--6--

Cloud gazed unsurely at the young woman in front of him. He didn't think he recognized her, but the expression on her face pulled helplessly at the part of his mind that was shadowed and out of focus. It was as if she were a part of the puzzle that was creating itself in his head. Her name was almost within reach, but he could never seem to catch hold of it quick enough to utter the sound.

"Aerith," she spoke as if she had known his thoughts all along. The odd smile gracing her innocent face only furthered his guess that maybe he wasn't very good at keeping his expression clear.

But her name did nothing more to jog his memory. He was almost one hundred percent sure he had never met her before, but something was trying to tell him that he was wrong. That she was ultimately important to finding out why part of his mind was locked.

----

"_Actually, I don't get much business down here under the plate."_

_He stared at the young woman standing before him, her blue dress causing her irises to shine brighter than he'd ever seen them, though the angle of her brows forewarned him of her disappointment. She was holding a basket of flowers, ribbons tied innocently around the stems. The flowers were in full bloom, the colors complementing her dress perfectly._

"_I'll fix that."_

"_How?"_

----

Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed when several soldiers filed in through the back doors of the church and a blue-suited figure stopped ten feet away from them. His appearance was uncharacteristically laid back, yet his expression was solid. And just like the woman standing next to him, this man stirred up similar feelings of _knowing_ that caused Cloud to become more unsure of everything.

Why was he standing in the middle of a church talking to a flower girl as if he'd known her his entire life? More importantly, he figured, why were there flowers blooming in such an odd place, and how could it be possible?

----

"_Three thousand."_

"_I'll raise you five hundred."_

"_Call. Let's see it, yo."_

_Confidently, he laid down his five cards._

"_Pair of jacks to open, trips to win, right?"_

"_That's a sweet ace you got there, yo."_

"_Shut the fuck up and show 'em."_

_The redhead sitting across from him lounged back in his seat, staring nonchalantly at his hand. He was purposely drawing this out. Before the silence actually became unbearable, the redhead laid his own cards upon the table and left them there. They sat innocently next to the healthy-sized pile of winnings waiting to be claimed._

"_Well, shit." _

"_Never knew you had such a potty mouth, Fair."_

"_That's a lot of fucking gil on the table."_

"_And it's all mine." _

_The redhead casually reached forward and scooped it up. Pocketing most of it, he tossed a few denominations toward the lonely SOLDIER sulking across the table. _

"_Cheer up, you'll win next time."_

"_Right."_

_Eyeballing the clock, the redhead made to stand, his chair screeching mercilessly across the tile._

"_Draw—always a favorite. You should learn to quit while you're ahead."_

---

Dazed, Cloud's vision went in and out of focus for a moment as he tried to collect himself. He couldn't shake the feeling that this man before him was someone he should remember—the suit, the hair, the confident persona. Though, as Cloud continued to stare at him, the redhead's expression began to falter.

"Reno," he stated. It wasn't a question, and it fell effortlessly off his tongue as if he'd spent years practicing those two syllables.

_I know you._


	7. Chapter 7 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--7--

Zack stumbled through the doorway, clumsily pushing past the annoyed blond in hopes of reaching the couch before he completely passed out. His balance, however, was threatening to introduce his face to the floor before he'd get the chance.

"The fuck, Zack?"

Luckily, and with less grace than he'd admit, he fell helplessly upon his goal, though much worse for wear.

"Are you drunk?"

If only. Unfortunately, the brunet SOLDIER was beyond inebriated. Even the mention of alcohol couldn't penetrate the wall currently closing in around him.

He was suffocating.

Having much experience with dealing with an intoxicated Zack Fair, Cloud must have noticed the difference.

Closing the half-open door, the cadet moved to stand in front of his friend. There was a long moment when neither said anything, before Zack turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. Cloud hadn't thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep. There was a tenseness etched harshly along the older man's frame, and though he tried to keep his features schooled, his expression was tight and riddled with emotion.

He waited.

Uncharacteristically, Zack held his words at bay for longer than both of them would have thought. Then again, he was not often silenced to such a degree, and this caused Cloud to measure his own thoughts, to gauge as much as he could from Zack's expression so he would be prepared for the outcome.

"Angeal's gone," Zack spoke.

His voice was softer than usual, and there was a desperation that brought the other to his knees. Cloud had questions and thoughts and emotions that clawed behind his eyes and begged to spill forth from his lips, but he kept himself in check, instead simply raising his arms and circling them around Zack's waist. He let Zack pull him closer until the brunet was clinging tightly to his smaller frame. This caused Cloud to clutch the other man's shoulders and hold him just as tightly, desperate as well for the comfort the embrace offered.

This was why Zack was afraid of the younger man. There was a sensitivity that poured out of the blond that gave him incredible power. At the same time, however, it could so easily be broken. And Zack was afraid he'd be the one to do it.

"I don't—" he began, but he stopped to pull in a much needed breath, clutching Cloud tighter with every word he spoke.

"I don't know if he's coming back."

Cloud was not unaware of Zack's tendency to _remember. _It was a desperation that infiltrated every thought, every emotion, every action, and every word he ventured.

And just like every other time he came home broken, Cloud silently worked to piece him together before the sunrise.

He had no false hopes—no empty encouragements. All he had was himself, and Zack was willing to accept that.

Burying the fingers of his right hand in the dark hair falling down the brunet's back, Cloud raised his head enough to gaze upon the broadsword placed carefully in the corner by the door—a constant reminder having been there for months—and stilled. The blade was dull from nonuse, dust having collected unknowingly upon the surface of the hilt. Moonlight from beyond the open window across the room stretched shamelessly down the length of the blade, catching his eye and causing a certain anxiety to crawl underneath his skin. It was a sense of foreboding.

When Zack pulled back from his hold, Cloud broke his gaze from the relic.

Suddenly, Cloud grabbed hold of the older man and crushed their bodies together. A determined expression made its way across his features and his thoughts converged on one point.

_What the hell, Angeal? What right do you fucking have?_

Apparently, Angeal's legacy was having a greater impact than any of them had expected.


	8. Chapter 8 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--8--

There was never a moment he feared more than right then. He wasn't afraid to die—he had overcome that long ago—but fear still remained. It reminded him why he was standing there—sword unpolished from years of being untouched, body haggard and covered in dirt from weeks spent on the run, Midgar's most western sectors visible in the distance—why he was alone. And he would readily admit that he had never felt more alone than right then.

Alone, afraid—very uncharacteristic of a SOLDIER.

And after more than four years of separation, he wasn't quite sure who he was anymore. Yet, with every breath, every beat of his heart, he could feel the effects of the mako coursing through his veins. It was so deeply embedded at the cellular level—burning, tearing, and severing every connection to his old self, to the man he used to be. And the only part of it he didn't regret was the strength it provided at his last hour—his finest, he hoped. But at what cost? The stamp of Shinra was so deep, he could feel it on his soul. He lived so long aiming to be the best, to make it to the top, that he never realized how far it would take him. He never realized the sacrifice it would cost—and still he was no closer to his goal than he'd ever been.

Instead, with the final countdown beating like a drum on his heart, he marveled at it all—at Shinra, at Sephiroth, and Genesis, Angeal, Aerith… and especially Cloud.

All he'd ever wanted to be was a hero. Looking back, he wondered if he'd even tried hard enough. How misguided had he been? Was there any hope left that Cloud would come back from this?

But there was a part of him—a greater part—that fought back. It tore at his heart and brought unwanted tears to his eyes as he prepared himself to walk away from the only friend who hadn't left him alone. It was ironic.

For all the deceit, broken promises, terror, and treachery Shinra carried out, he hoped his last moments would change that—that it would all change.

Above all, Zack simply hoped Cloud would remember.


	9. Chapter 9 : Crisis Core

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--9--

The anxiety running through Cloud's veins caused his stomach to lurch just at the truck they were in hit a rut in the road, and his body slammed hard against the side. If he'd eaten anything at all before they'd left, it would have been all over. But as it was, his empty stomach protested harshly against the maltreatment, and his mind raced a mile a minute. He tried to calm his restless nerves but he couldn't stop—his mind wouldn't stop bringing up anything and everything he knew about his home town.

"Hey, Cloud."

At the sound of Zack's deep voice, he turned his head and gave the other man a look.

"Woah, kid. What's—"

"He's carsick."

The other cadet's voice sounded sure and a bit pretentious. Cloud wanted to take out his frustration on the other guy's face, but he couldn't get himself to move. He opened his mouth to protest, but Zack beat him to it.

"No, he's not. Cloud what's wrong?"

Instead of answering, he lowered his head and tried to quell the tears beginning to form behind his closed eyelids. He didn't understand why the hell he was fucking crying at a time like this. He was going home. He would see his mom. He should be happy. Instead, though, he felt an intense, unchecked fear that was threatening to overwhelm him. He needed something to ground him before he broke down completely.

The last time he'd felt emotion this intense was back when he lived with his mother, back before Shinra. His mom always said he had some sort of innate sense not unlike the intuition she was born with.

When he felt the weight of an arm pull him close, he unclenched his eyes, and looked up at his friend's worried face.

"I can't do this," he whispered.

Cloud hated to admit he was afraid. He hated to show how vulnerable he was at this moment, but he hated more to hide anything from Zack. The other man had been nothing but honest to him during their short-lived friendship, and he didn't want to be anything less.

Zack's expression went from confusion to mild understanding, and Cloud wondered what he was thinking.

"I won't leave you alone."

He didn't promise they'd be okay. He didn't assure them that nothing would happen. And though Cloud felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding, his mind cleared enough to realize that Zack was right. He wasn't alone in this. He didn't have to face whatever this was alone. Whatever happened, Zack was right here alongside him.


	10. Chapter 10 : Final Fantasy VII

Set Against the Grain

_Drabbles following the exploits of Zack and Cloud, via Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core._

--10--

_The price of freedom is steep._

Cloud's eyes clenched tightly as he heard the words echo loudly in his mind. Water surrounded him, soaking his clothes, chilling his body—he silently hoped it would numb the rest of him. But he was only waist-deep, and it wasn't cold enough to do anything but calm his shaking limbs. In his arms, he held the body tightly, afraid to let go, afraid to give up.

_Freedom…_

The pink dress she wore was now stained with the dark red of her blood, and the water around them was quickly clouding over. He wanted to apologize to her for not being there. He wanted to rip Sephiroth in half. He wanted to try everything to get her back. But he knew it was hopeless.

As he slowly let go of her quickly fading figure, he felt a part of himself die.

He hadn't known her long, but his heart ached with a strange emotion he couldn't name. Flashes of images he wasn't familiar with passed before his mind too quickly for him to distinguish—they were as pieces from a dream cascading all around him like a puzzle, but he was too bewildered to put them together.

Instead, he closed his eyes again and sighed.

_If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams._

He struggled for so long trying to find answers to these thoughts inside his head, but he was worse off than he started. He lost her. She wasn't going to come back.

This strange emotion inside him was not foreign, but achingly familiar. So familiar, his mind began to claw helplessly against an invisible barrier that he was slowly beginning to become aware of. He felt there was something he was missing. There was something telling him that Aerith's part of the puzzle was more important than any of them imagined. She was possibly the most important.

And now she was gone.


End file.
